


to hazard this jeu de follie

by sonnydelagay



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe- Modern Setting - Freeform, Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I mean, M/M, Panic Attacks, Referenced Child Abuse, Storms, and very very vague, i guess, its open to interpretation - Freeform, okay henry laurens is mentioned for .02 seconds and not even by name
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:33:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonnydelagay/pseuds/sonnydelagay
Summary: "alexander. not alex, never alex."alexander has questions, and john notices.was northernfuckyou





	

"Why do you always call me Alexander?"  
John blinked once, at the abrupt question from his best friend, who had dropped his pen and turned in his chair as if the thought had suddenly occurred to him, but John knew better; the way his words were clipped to prevent his accent from becoming prominent in the way it tended to do after he had mulled over a certain idea for too long, until it burnt him from the inside out, and he had to spit it out before the damage became permanent.  
Perhaps it was that, or perhaps it was the way Alexander thought everything over before allowing it to slip carelessly from his tongue, contrary to popular belief. He had a knack for predicting a person's next words, and with his mind working faster than seemed humanly possible, could have with a clever turn of phrase waiting to be slung, with a razor sharp precision, hardly a beat after the last syllable was spoken.  
Perhaps it was because of the set of his jaw, the one that indicated his unwilling acceptance of kindnesses he felt he didn't deserve, the one that took hours, days, to build up.  
Perhaps it was all of these, or none, or some combination forthwith, but John's response neither deserved dissection in the same way, nor received it, for he replied simply and honestly.  
"Because you asked me to."  
If it had been anyone else, even John himself, he would have started, with anger, with surprise, with hatred for the circumstances in which that request had been born, but it was Alexander, dear, damaged Alexander, so he merely nodded and turned back, resumed working, the only telltale sign the whitening of his knuckles around the pen.  
It was John, dear, damaged John, though, who amended his words carefully.  
"You didn't ask me, though. You told me what you preferred, and I listened."  
He remembered that night with shocking clarity, the crashing thunder and the vicious lightning, the incessant pounding of the rain, the rain that had driven Alexander to the only other person in conceivable distance: John Laurens, the freckle-splattered neighbour who greeted him cheerfully each morning.  
But no- the rain had not driven Alexander to John, not really. The rain had driven Alexander into himself, and the rain had driven John into the den with the hope of a respite from the sheer continuity that trickled through his ears until he screamed silently and dug his hands into his hair, and the rain, or perhaps some greater power, or perhaps sheer coincidence, had left Alexander curled into a ball behind the couch, shaking, with eyes that could see nothing but a blinding white.  
It wasn't the rain that had made John sing quietly under his breath as he comforted Alexander, no, that was all on John.  
And when Alexander had managed to gasp out a frantic "Alexander. Not Alex, never Alex." in between ragged breaths, in response to John's murmur of "Alex, right?", and John had never called him anything but that in the years since, well, that was all on John, too.  
"It's a mouthful." Alexander said, instead of responding directly, and John nodded slightly.  
"It is."  
"You nickname everything in sight, yet even at four in the morning, when sleep clouds your judgement and every syllable is a struggle, you call me Alexander." Alexander's voice was tinged with accusation, and John hummed in agreement.  
"I do."  
Alexander slammed his pen down and stood up, something like fury burning in his eyes as he turned to face John, who raised an eyebrow.  
"But- Why?" His voice caught on the last word, and John's heart broke. He ignored it, though, forcing himself to maintain the unconcerned façade, determined to make Alexander see reason.  
"Because it's your name."  
Alexander squared his shoulders, in the way that meant he was prepared to argue his case until his opponent admitted defeat, even if only to quiet him, but John continued before he could.  
"Because it's your name. Because you told me not to call you Alex. Because you were reliving some of your worst memories, and I'll be damned if I add to that." He had stood up too, at some point, and had crossed the room, to stand in front of Alexander, will him to understand. "Because I know what it's like, Alexander." His voice softened, and with it, Alexander's face. He wanted to stop, leave it at that, like he always had. But he _needed_ to tell someone, and Alexander _knew what it was like_.  
"It's different here, Alexander. In New York. Back ho- In the South, there's a derivative of John that's much more common."  
They were close, so close, now, and Alexander exhaled softly.  
"Jack."  
John nodded, looking anywhere but Alexander's eyes. "My father would call me Jack. Everyone did, but it was different when he did. _When_ he did."  
Their eyes met, for just a moment, and John's vision blurred, _(since when had he been crying?)_ , and then it cleared, and he saw Alexander, dear, damaged Alexander, who _understood_ , and something irreversibly changed.  
If you asked John, many years later, he would have told you that wasn't the moment he realised. No, the moment he realised that he was in love with Alexander Hamilton was when the shorter of the two had raised himself onto his toes and pressed his lips against John's.  
John Laurens had never claimed to be particularly good at analysing his own feelings, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> this has not been read over or edited hope u enjoyed
> 
> it's late and it's monday tomorrow and i have a billion assignments due, but i thrive off of angst
> 
> i'm working on something big!  
> this is why i haven't been posting much, i'm writing an original story with my cousin, and the characters just keep elaborating on themselves, and i'm in love.
> 
> stay tuned, my friends


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